Chapter Two: "Return"

~~~

I woke abruptly, the covers wound around my shoulders and neck.

I still felt like I was suffocating and clawed at the sheets until they were shoved to the bottom of my futon. The dark of my room remained too much like the confines of the metal box I had dreamed about being imprisoned in, and the orange glow of the city beyond my window did nothing to dispel it. I jumped to my feet and crossed the room in swift carpet-eating strides, then flicked the light-switch.

For one absurd moment, I feared that the light wouldn't turn on, and the sudden flood of overhead glow was a relief and a shock all at once. I turned away from the door way, annoyed by the stickiness I felt all over my bare chest and forehead - I had been sweating in my sleep, a by-product of my fear.

Feeling my knees shaking and threatening to give way I plopped myself down at my desk. There I picked up the photo frame that held a picture of my sister Miaka and her husband Taka, cradling their son, Sukanami Mikomi, pink faced and screaming. Mik-chan was the culmination of all the love found in Shiji Tenshi Sho, so it made sense for them to name him 'hope'.

Closing my eyes and rubbing my neck again, I took a deep breath.

What the hell kind of dream had that been?

I had been locked inside a metal box, lightless and airless, unable to escape, screaming for release, knowing no one could hear me and...

... no.

No, it couldn't be...

Ignoring that my chair was thrown backwards as I jumped to my feet, I threw on some socks, then pulled the top half of my sweat-suit over my head and rushed to the front door. It was raining, and I could hear the soft pinging of the water against the roof, as well as the soft breathing of my mother, asleep in her own bed, in her room by the entry hall.

My mother.

She knew nothing of Miaka's secret life, and we had resolved never to tell her. She thought my sister had met Taka working in a coffee shop and while she had disapproved initially because of the age gap, she eventually realized how devoted Miaka and Taka were to one another and gave them her blessing.

Slipping my feet into my boots, pulling my rain slicker on, and taking the only flashlight in the apartment, I eased the front door open to keep it from squeaking.

"I'm sorry, Mom," I whispered as I stepped over the threshold. "You wouldn't understand."

When the door closed behind me, the sound held an eerie note of finality.

~~~

Wishing that I'd had the foresight to put on a ball cap, I shoved my hair behind my ears for the umpteenth time. I was shivering, my teeth chattering, and I knew that if I stayed outside much longer, I would probably get hypothermia. But I didn't care - all that mattered was finding that damned key.

I sloshed along the bank of the river, the rain pelting me, driving me downwards towards the water, up to my knees in the silt and grime. I flicked the flashlight's beam around, desperately hoping to catch the flicker of light on metal at the bottom of the riverbed. My throw can'tve been that good - it couldn't have landed too far away from the shore.

I was about to give in, my sides aching from breathing in the foul river smell and the vicious shaking that I had succumbed to, but something kept me going, something told me to look down. I finally listened to the something and was rewarded - there, right there!

I reached down and plunged my hand into the freezing water, the burn on my knuckle twinging in protest as I immersed it in the foul, chilly liquid.. Right underneath the rim of my boot lay the safety deposit box key, shiny and tempting, winking at me.

"Found you!" I exclaimed, and would have sworn I heard the key reply, 'about damned time'.

~~~

It was six o'clock in the morning according to the clock on the post office tower by the time I had made my way to the bank. I had to stop several times in various coffee shops along the way to warm up, and had ignored the concerned owner's glances as I fished soggy yen bills from my jacket pockets to pay for the meager paper cups of warmth.

I had to keep moving - I had to get there.

I waited for half an hour on the front steps of the imposing building before the bank opened, clutching desperately to my last in a long line of coffees. When the security guard came out and unlocked the door, he tried to crack a joke about early birds and worms, but took one look at my muddy, streaked, pale face and ushered me inside.

"What the hell happened to you?" he asked, tossing me a dry blanket from his own security station by the door.

"Lost my key," I answered with a thin smile, thanked him for the blanket, wiped the mud off my face with one corner of it, and went immediately to the teller. It was the same frumpy woman who had sealed away the Shiji Tenshi Sho the day before.

"I need that book back," I said softly, placing the key down on the blotter between us. "I'm sorry, I need it now."

"Right, follow me." The woman turned and I walked after her around the counter, and into the main vault. We stopped and stared at the wall full of glimmering metal doors, and I swallowed heavily.

Was I really doing this?

It had only been a dream after all, and I had vowed that no one would ever be victim to that damned book ever again; no innocent girl would ever be consumed by an ancient god. And here I was, my palms itching to hold the cursed ancient Chinese novel once more.

The seconds it took the teller to open the door and pull out the box seemed like an eternity to me.

When she finally handed me the container and I ripped the lid off it and pulled out the book with a speed born of frenzy, allowing the metal box to clang unceremoniously to the floor.

I had to read it!

Ignoring the teller's shouts of protest at the mistreatment of bank property, I flipped open the cover and skimmed the words with my eyes, reading out loud:

This is the story of a boy from the other world. The tale of the Four Mikos having come to a completion, it was his duty to tread where no Miko or God before him had gone, and ensure the rebirth of all those deserving. The story itself is an incantation; the moment the page is turned, the story will become truth, and begin.

Without a second thought, I turned the page.

I could barely make out the teller's shocked scream over the sudden roar of the wind, and had to close my eyes against the immediate and intense flash of red light. I could feel the damp strands of my hair whipping around my head, lashing at my cheeks, stinging . I could feel the blanket I clutched filling with air, floating about me like a great grey sail.

"Suzaku-sama...!" I whispered as I felt the book slide from my hands, and consciousness slide from my form.

When I hit the ground, I knew that it was not the hard tile one of the bank - I had fallen onto long, thick, dry, fragrant grass.